The mountains around the valley provide me with my markers, the points on my own personal compass. When I feel adrift and untethered I look to those markers to re-center, re-anchor my sore spirit.

Can I see the grand majesty of Four Peaks, the distinctive yellow band of Wind Cave? Can I see the familiar wall of South Mountain, the stark point of Piestewa? Can I locate Tom’s Thumb, view the magical White Tanks, find the misty Estrellas in the distance? Where is Flat Iron and Weaver’s Needle? Where are the McDowells, the San Tans?

In life’s low and slow points, I feel my heart and soul pull my eyes to spot these markers. To savor past hikes and the peaceful, grounding moments spent on these slopes and peaks. To feel the harsh, cleansing desert sun above my head and the sharp, dry rocks of the trails below my feet.

You, mountains of granite and sandstone, filled with the Sonoran Desert’s magic grand and small, you are my markers. Thank you for your presence.

Its light pours outward. No boundaries, no limitations, no blocks, no impediments. It just shines and keeps pouring out light until it’s done. A little point of light in a vast black emptiness. One of trillions of little points of light in a space so limitlessly large that only the heart can begin to understand the vastness, not the mind. Its light outlasts its physical matter. Its light travels farther than its mass ever could.

….:::: A soul shines ::::….

Its love pours outward. No boundaries, no limitations, no blocks, no impediments. It just loves and keeps pouring out love forever. A little point of love in a vast black emptiness. One of trillions of little points of love. In a space so limitlessly beautiful that only the heart can began to feel the depth of the beauty, not the mind. Its love outlasts everything. Its love travels farther than anything ever will.

….:::: A body shines ::::….

Its energy pours outward. Its life is to be lived within boundaries, limitations, blocks, and impediments. It lives as best it can until it’s done. One body on a little planet. One of billions of bodies sharing the same precious planet. Its purpose is to accept the gift of the light from the star and to accept the gift of the love from the soul.

Our purpose is to share the light and love as deeply and as fully as possible.

She sits alone on a high rock in the bright desert sun. She is mourning like it’s the end of everything.

But it isn’t.

In the hot dry desert air she realizes she’s been in this place of pain before, many times in many other lives. She no longer fights it, but embraces its sharpness.

She relaxes into the pain and her mind’s eye opens with a rush.

With a familiar wave of completeness, she smiles as the pain changes. She floats a little higher, with more confidence and she feels the weightlessness begin. A thrill surges as she gains confidence and she sheds the binds of pain.

She’s higher now, above her body and the desert as she feels her clothes burn away. Lighter. Next skin and hair disappear, and then muscles, ligaments, connective tissue, cells and finally bones burn away.

She is in her pure, silver essence and merges effortlessly with the universe who loves her. She flies up, away, gone in her healing quest. Her silver essence is now complete in its most pure, perfect form and she gives and takes both what she needs from the atoms around her.

She returns to the rock in the sun, to the body, the vessel she’s occupying in this life. She returns to realize, she can do this again, anytime she needs to rinse, to cleanse, to purify and to feel complete.

I’d like to remember Russ Symmes today. The Big Kahuna was a fixture in the 80s and 90s ultimate scene in Phoenix. Always ready with a hug and a handsome smile, he brought joy into my life. He developed brain cancer in 1991 and was not expected to live past six months. But he fought through three brain surgeries and kept on going.

In 1997-98 lots of us movie buffs fought hard to prevent the old Cine Capri on 24th and Camelback from being torn down. Progress and land values won over history and a Ralph Haver gem. Russ and I had a good cry, and one night he jumped the demolition site barriers and brought me these two tiles from the building. They are imported Italian green ceramic, and iconic to the old theater and to my friendship with Russ. As I remember my own brain surgery last year, I also remember my good friend and miss him terribly.